


City of Lights

by burning_books



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Loki means well, Reader does not like surprises, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burning_books/pseuds/burning_books
Summary: You hate surprises. Loki loves to surprise you. This time, his surprise doesn't go quite as planned.





	City of Lights

“Loki, you know I hate surprises,” you told him for the dozenth time that day. He grinned his usual mischievous grin.  

 

“You’ll like this one, darling,” he replied in that infuriatingly know-it-all way that he did sometimes. It always worried you when he tried to surprise you with things, especially since you hadn’t been together very long. In the two months that you’d known Loki, you had discovered that he was not very careful when it came to the fears of those around him. He was over-confident in his ability to read people, you decided.

 

“Come on, love, you ought to get dressed. Wear something chic, will you? I’m looking forward to falling in love with you all over again.” His words dragged you back to the present.

 

“Will you please tell me where we’re going?”

 

“That defeats the purpose of a surprise, darling,” he answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. You shook your head.

 

“You’re probably going to regret that,” you told him, but he didn’t respond, so you left to get changed for your date.

 

You took your time getting ready, ignoring Loki’s pleas for you to hurry. You dressed slowly, carefully selecting exactly what you would wear and fussing over every last detail until you looked absolutely, irrefutably perfect. He’d said he wanted to fall in love with you again – well, now was his chance.

 

“Y/n, this is your last warning! We are seriously going to miss it –” he exclaimed, but the words stopped falling from his open mouth when you stepped back into your living room. You had decided on a simple black scoop-neck top, an emerald green skirt, your favorite sliver scale-print leggings, and a pair of combat boots. Your hair was twisted into an elegant crown braid, and you finished the outfit with his favorite shade of emerald green lipstick.

 

“Have anything to say, Silvertongue?” you teased, watching his eyes move up and down your body like a starving animal about to pounce. His mouth still hung open. “Hello, Loki? Anybody there?”

 

He shook himself out of his trance, his eyes finding their way up to yours. “You look lovely,” he said.

 

“Oh, that’s all? Just ‘lovely’? All of that hard work and all I get is ‘lovely’?” you exclaimed dramatically, but you couldn’t keep a straight face. You broke into a teasing grin.

 

“You… I think you’ve left me speechless, y/n,” he managed. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He folded his hands together, but not before you noticed their slight tremble.

 

“Well, you did tell me you wanted to fall in love with me all over again,” you retorted.

 

He slowly stood up from the couch and stepped forward. “Put on a jacket. You’re going to freeze like that,” he said quietly. You wordlessly crossed the room to grab your black leather jacket and the emerald green scarf he’d given you last week “for no reason”, knotting it around your neck. 

 

He followed you across the room, and once you were finished with your scarf he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

 

“You’re absolutely stunning, y/n,” he whispered in your ear. “Are you ready?”

 

You turned to face him and slid your arms around his slim waist. “If I must be,” you mumbled into his chest.

 

“Close your eyes,” he said, tightening his grip on you.

 

The floor vanished from beneath your feet and you clung to him for dear life. You hated when he teleported you places, far preferring more ordinary modes of transport.

 

But soon enough your feet were back on solid ground, and his grip on you loosened. “You can let go now,” he said softly. “We’re here.”

 

You released him and took a step back, but when you looked at your surroundings, you immediately grabbed hold of him again. “Loki!” you exclaimed, terror giving your voice a hard edge. “The top of the Eiffel Tower?! Really?! I’m terrified of heights!” You buried your face into his chest and squeezed your eyes shut, gripping him hard enough to leave bruises.

 

“It’s alright, love,” he said softly, his voice low and gentle. His arms wrapped around you again, sheltering you with his body. “Trust me, darling. I know you’re frightened, but you’re going to love the view. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.” He gave you a small, reassuring squeeze. “Now, look up.”

 

You clung to him tightly as you twisted your neck to look out at the skyline. The sun was nearly below the horizon, and you watched as the lights of Paris slowly illuminated the streets below as the orange sky gave way to blue. You had to admit that it was incredible despite your fear.

 

“Nearly as beautiful as you, darling,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair. You smiled in spite of yourself. You gazed up at him; he was smiling, too. “You know, Midgardians are supposed to find this tower romantic.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Not the ones that hate surprises and are terrified of heights, Loki,” you sighed, unable to suppress your annoyance.

 

“But you must admit you feel something in the air, something a little bit breathless…” he purred.

 

“I do. It’s called a lack of oxygen due to altitude combined with sheer panic,” you retorted.

 

“Don’t be like that, darling,” he said, his lower lip curling into a pout. “Look around you. There’s something magical in the air.”

 

You glanced around at all the glittering lights below you. It did feel as if you were standing above a city made of stars, and that certainly would have been magical.

 

When you looked back up at Loki, his eyes were fixed on your lips.

 

“It’s electrifying, isn’t it, this magic?” he said, his voice so low and breathless it was nearly a whisper. “I almost can’t help myself…” He leaned a little closer to you, his green eyes never wavering from your lips. “It makes you seem even more maddeningly breathtaking than you were before, and I can’t keep myself from falling for you again and again as I look at you in this light.”

 

The smile returned to the corners of your mouth. “That’s quite enough, Silvertongue,” you said quietly, rising up onto your toes for a kiss. When your lips met his, all your fear faded away. He kissed you softly, his palm pressing to the small of your back to hold you up. Your hand moved to twine into the silky black hair at the nape of his neck. He held you so lovingly, and you could see the sparks raining behind your fluttering eyelids. You fell harder for him than you ever thought you could, all your emotions twisting and tangling and turning into delicious adoration for the God of Mischief.

 

When he broke the kiss, he was smiling blissfully. “I love you,” he said breathlessly.

 

His eyes lit up brighter than the City of Lights below when you said “I love you, too.”

 


End file.
